The Return
by Karen-s-c
Summary: T'Pol makes a discovery.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Star Trek universe. Paramount owns the show, the characters, the ships, etc. I'm only playing with them.

Now, on with the show.

**Chapter 1 – A Surprising Turn of Events**

As she stepped into the shower, she closed her eyes and let the warm water flow over her tired body. Seconds later, warm, strong hands caressed her shoulders and back, turning her to face him. Her hands slid up his chest and around his neck, and his lips met hers in a deep kiss. Finally, breathless, they drew back and gazed at each other . . . and T'Pol suddenly woke up.

Sitting up in bed, she drew her knees up to her chest, hugging her legs tightly with her arms. Another dream about Trip. They were recurrent, these dreams. Sometimes they were dreams of actual events, sometimes they were fantasies, but they all featured Trip Tucker. Lost Trip, loved Trip, the only man she'd ever love.

T'Pol rose from her bed and walked to the window. Gazing out at the predawn San Francisco skyline, she remembered that day when Trip had died. It was a senseless death, really. So illogical, and even six months later, grief rose up in her, threatening to overwhelm her. She missed him. Vulcans didn't miss those who died, after all it was illogical, but she missed Trip. She walked over to the chest of drawers in the corner of her bedroom. Opening the top drawer, she removed a blue Starfleet uniform. Trip's uniform. She had given the rest of Trip's things to his parents, but this she had kept. It was a terribly un-Vulcan thing to do, but she'd reached a point in her life where she didn't care if it was un-Vulcan. She raised the uniform to her face and rubbed her cheek against it. Her keen Vulcan sense of smell could still pick up the faint scent left in the fabric, Trip's scent. She replaced the uniform in the drawer, and, sighing, she decided to prepare for her meeting at the Vulcan Consulate with Ambassador Soval. Afterward, she had a meeting with Phlox regarding a special project she wanted to pursue. She showered and dressed, then lit her meditation candles. She needed to get her emotions under control.

T'Pol began her meditations as usual, focusing on the clean white space in her mind. She was still getting used to meditating without Trip Tucker accidentally popping in and out, although she would not have minded it now. It had been six months since his death rescuing the Andorian, Shran's, daughter and the Enterprise from alien smugglers. As she focused on her emotional control, she heard a voice she hadn't heard in six long months, echoing words she'd heard before.

"What the hell is this place?"

Opening her eyes, she saw a familiar person outlined against the stark white space of her mind.

It was Trip.

Startled, T'Pol was abruptly pulled from her meditative trance. Or was it awakened from her sleep? For, indeed, she thought that she must have been asleep in order to have had another dream about Trip, unless she had started to hallucinate. She dismissed that thought. Vulcans did not hallucinate.

Focusing once more on the white space in her mind, T'Pol resumed her meditations, and this time they were undisturbed.

T'Pol's duties with the new United Federation of Planets kept her busy. Not as busy as her assignment with Enterprise, but busy enough to help her through her daily life. She had almost forgotten about seeing Trip during her meditations.

Until it happened again a week later.

And again two weeks after that.

"So, you've seen Commander Tucker three times in your meditations." Phlox, who now worked at Starfleet Medical, ran the bioscanner over T'Pol's head and neck to check for any physical abnormality that could be causing delusions. Upon examining his findings, he shook his head. "There's nothing physically wrong with you. You're a little anemic, but some medication will alleviate that."

"Then what could be the reason for seeing Commander Tucker during my meditations?" she asked. "It is not logical for a Vulcan to have hallucinations."

"No," Phlox agreed. "But, you and the commander were bondmates. The breaking of that bond by his death could cause some psychological distress."

T'Pol looked at Phlox with a raised brow. "Would I not have experienced this distress six months ago when he died?"

Phlox shrugged. "Not necessarily." He walked over to his pharmaceutical cabinet and removed a small vial of pills. "You were under a great deal of stress at the time. That initial stress has now passed, causing you to be more open to feeling the broken bond."

T'Pol tentatively and delicately probed her own mind. She could detect no distress, psychological or otherwise. In fact, she felt something else, something very strange. She hadn't really allowed herself to examine the pain of losing someone she had cared about, much less been bonded with. She became very still, an odd look on her face.

"T'Pol? Are you all right?" Phlox queried gently. He knew that she and Commander Tucker had ended any romantic liaison they might have had years before, even though the bond was still there. Still, his loss must have been doubly painful with both the bond and her feelings for the commander. The relationship may have become platonic, but that did not mean the feelings went away.

"Yes." She once more focused on Phlox. "Thank you, doctor."

"You're very welcome, Commander." Phlox gave her the prescription for her anemia. "By the way, I'll soon be ready to start on your project."

"Do you have a definite time frame?" she questioned.

"Oh, I'd say not more than three weeks from now. I'll contact when everything is ready," he smiled.

"Very good." She nodded to him. "Thank you, Doctor." Then she exited the examining room.

T'Pol quickly hurried to her quarters. Something was definitely wrong. If her suspicions were right, something _very_ wrong had happened six months before.

T'Pol focused on the white room. She had chosen this as her focal point for meditation because of its lack of distractions. As she concentrated on controlling her breathing, she steeled herself for what could possibly happen.

And it did happen.

"Here we go again," said a voice with a Southern accent.

T'Pol opened her eyes. There he was. She exerted every ounce of emotional control she had and managed to speak.

"Trip." She felt as if she were choking. His name was really all she could manage at the moment.

"What? You again?" he asked. "You want me to trip?" He took a long look at her and rubbed his eyes. He seemed quite perturbed. "I'm dreamin' about a Vulcan. I must be losin' my mind."

"I don't think this is a dream," she informed him. "We thought that you were dead, Trip." Even just saying this disturbed her.

"Oh, Trip's a name." He looked at her oddly. "My names not Trip. It's Tom. Tom Clark." He crossed his arms over his chest and rubbed the inside of his cheek with his tongue, then he narrowed his eyes and asked. "Who's Trip?"

It took every bit of emotional control for T'Pol to remain in the meditative state. Seeing the gesture that was so clearly Trip's was difficult, but his denial of his true identity was odd.

"You are Commander Charles Tucker III. Your friends call you Trip," she informed him matter-of-factly.

"And you're sayin' we're friends?" He gave a little laugh. "Yeah, right." He shook his head. "No disrespect intended, ma'am, but I only know two Vulcans, and they're definitely not female, they are not my friends, and they _most_ definitely _don't_ look like you."

"Then you are suffering from amnesia." She paused, then continued. "I know that you _are_ Commander Tucker. Our bond is proof of that." She raised her chin and continued. "Have you been having extremely vivid daydreams of me?"

"Daydreams?" He looked at her in some trepidation. "Yeah, I've been having some really wild daydreams. Night dreams, too." He took a deep breath. "You were there." Trip's eyes wandered down her body as if trying to see what she looked like without her clothes. There was nothing sexual in his gaze, so she knew that he was trying to gauge if the shower dreams had been based on fact or fantasy. "I don't know why I'd be fantasizing about being with a Vulcan. An imaginary one at that."

T'Pol was about to say something when suddenly she was back in her quarters staring at her meditation candle. The whole incident left her feeling exhausted.

But, she had learned something. A name. It was a start.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – Revelation**

Captain Jonathan Archer was chafing at the bit to get back out into space. Sitting around, waiting for his new ship to come off of the assembly line was irritating in the extreme. Nearly everyday he was at the orbital engineering platform, monitoring systems checks and intermix ratios. He'd been granted time off by Starfleet Command, but it gave him too much time to think about the events of the last six months. He'd thought that when he got his new ship, Trip would be there with him, prepping her for her maiden voyage. Every time he went over the specs of the warp 7 engines, he saw something that Trip had recommended be installed. There were even components that he had designed himself to squeeze that little extra bit of speed from Enterprise's old warp 5 engines incorporated into the new engine's design. It wasn't fair, and Archer still felt a welling of anger and sorrow at the senselessness of what happened.

He'd been given an office at Starfleet Command, but he spent little time there, preferring to be where the action was, the orbital engineering platform. As fate would have it, he'd stopped by the office to pick up some papers he'd left on his desk the day before. He was perusing them when the chime of his office door sounded.

"Come," he said as he studied the papers in his hand. He turned to greet the newcomer. "T'Pol!" He set the papers down on the desk and went toward her, stopping just short of arm's length. "It's great to see you. You're looking well."

"Thank you, Captain," she replied, nodding. "You also look well."

"Have a seat." He indicated the chair to his left. Sitting on the corner of his desk, he asked, "Is this a social call?" This was the first time he'd seen her since his speech before the new United Federation of Planets delegations. He knew that she had gone to Mississippi to meet Trip's parents and give them his things from his quarters, but other than a call from Trip's dad letting him know that she'd done so, he had heard little from her. He knew that she was working with the Vulcan delegation as a Federation liaison, but that was all. He, himself, had made no attempt to contact her either. The wounds from Trip's death had left both of them raw.

"No, Captain," she replied, ignoring the chair he'd indicated and standing at attention with her hands behind her back. Her eyes flickered around his office. "Could we take a walk? The weather is very good today."

Obviously, she had something she wanted to talk to him about, and she wanted to make sure of their privacy. "Sure, T'Pol. That's fine." Indicating that she should lead the way, he followed her out of the office, into the elevator, and, finally, out of the building. Once outside, she slowed her pace and finally spoke. What she said shocked him.

"Captain, I have reason to believe that Commander Tucker is alive." She lifted her chin, almost as if she were ready to do battle to get him to believe her. "I have definitive proof."

"T'Pol, I know that at one time you and Trip were very close, but Trip died." He looked at her sympathetically. "We buried him."

"Someone or something was buried, but it was not Trip." This was spoken as vehemently, for a Vulcan that is, as anything he had ever heard her say. "Trip is alive."

Archer sighed. "You said you had definitive proof." He led the way over to a bench that was on the grass in front of Starfleet Medical. He motioned for her to sit, then joined her.

T'Pol paused for a moment as if getting her thoughts together. "Commander Tucker and I had formed a psychic bond."

"A psychic bond?" Archer looked confused. "You mean, like a mating bond?" He remembered it from his brief contact with the katra of Surak. "Only Vulcans can form those."

"No, captain, that's not true. Trip and I formed a mating bond seven years ago, while in the expanse." She looked Archer in the eye. "That bond lets me know that he's still alive. I have been in contact with him."

Archer sat there staring stupidly at her, trying to wrap his brain around what she'd just told him. "Trip never mentioned it. He would have told me."

"I don't think he was ever completely comfortable with our bond. He learned to suppress it, just as I did." She glanced over her shoulder at the building behind them. "I suggest we speak with Phlox. He can confirm what I'm telling you about the bond."

"I think we'd better." Archer rose, indicating for T'Pol to precede him into the building. They took the lift to the xenobiology department where Phlox's lab and consulting rooms were located.

"Captain Archer!" Phlox greeted him warmly. "It's good to see you again!" He shot a surprised look at T'Pol. "Commander, I didn't expect to see you again so soon, but, no matter! Welcome!"

"It's good to see you, too, Phlox." Archer indicated the chairs before Phlox's desk. "May we sit down? T'Pol says that you can confirm some information that she has just given me."

"Why, of course, Captain! I'll be glad to tell you anything you need to know, provided T'Pol agrees." He indicated the chairs, and the three of them sat. "Now, what do you need to confirm."

"I wish you to confirm to Captain Archer that Commander Tucker and I did indeed share a mating bond." T'Pol raised her chin and sat very straight in her chair as she spoke.

Phlox raised his eyebrows, curious as to why T'Pol had finally decided to reveal this information to the Captain. "Yes, Captain, Commander Tucker and Commander T'Pol did indeed share a mating bond. It began while the Enterprise was in the Delphic Expanse."

Archer was surprised, not that Tucker and T'Pol shared something special, but he was surprised at the way it had manifested itself. "A human and a Vulcan shared a mating bond. I can't believe it! It shouldn't be possible. . ." Archer paused, then continued, "Should it?"

"It may only depend on the individuals involved, but it is possible that humans and Vulcans are more compatible than any of us realized." Phlox shrugged his shoulders, something he had picked up from his human crewmates. "On the other hand, according to Commander Tucker's psychological evaluations, he had a very high empathy rating."

"Empathy. That's being sensitive to the feelings and thoughts of others, isn't it?" Archer asked.

"Yes, Captain," T'Pol answered. "It could be one explanation as to why we bonded."

"So, on the basis of this bond, you've determined that Trip is still alive?" Archer asked.

"Commander T'Pol, I thought I explained why you were experiencing these visions of Commander Tucker during your meditations." Phlox looked at her with concern.

"Dr. Phlox, I have continued to have incursions from Commander Tucker into my meditations," She stated. "I have even learned the name he is currently using, Thomas Clark." She looked from Phlox to Archer. "It is my belief that he is suffering from amnesia."

"T'Pol," Archer said kindly, "I know how you felt about Trip-" he stopped when he saw her raised eyebrow, then continued, "Neither one of you hid it very well." He reached out as if to take her hand, then pulled back, thinking better of it. "Trip is dead."

"Who made the pronouncement of death?" She asked. "I know that Phlox did not. He was on earth being debriefed by Starfleet Command."

"Dr. Rayburn, the physician sent by Starfleet to assist when I was at my debriefing, made the official pronouncement of death." Phlox reached over to his computer terminal and entered Trip's name. A copy of his death certificate came up. "Oh, my, this is incorrect."

"What's wrong, doctor?" Archer asked. He rose and went to look over Phlox's shoulder.

"According to the commander's death certificate, I made the pronouncement of death." Phlox looked from Archer to T'Pol. "This document has been falsified. I was not on Enterprise when Commander Tucker died."

"Obviously, Commander Tucker's death has been fabricated for some purpose." T'Pol took a deep breath, then continued. "Thomas Clark is employed by Sonocorp, an engineering firm in their research and development department. That's all the information I was able to find."

"Sonocorp is making components for the new warp 7 ships and the scuttlebutt is that they're also researching ways to increase warp speeds exponentially," Archer informed her. "Whatever information is available should be readily accessed by someone with your security clearance."

"All Sonocorp employee data files have been encrypted using an extremely sophisticated code. Even a Vulcan would have difficulty breaking the code," she informed him.

Archer paused, thinking. A sense of anger filled him, strangely mingled with joy. Trip, not dead as they had all believed, but not knowing who he was. They had to get to the bottom of this, and quickly.

"I think we all know who would be best suited to decrypting these files," he said. "I'll get in touch with Hoshi in Brazil. She should be able to help us find the answers we need." _I'll also get in touch with Malcolm Reed,_ he thought. _Some of his 'friends' may be able to shed a little light on this subject, too._ "We'll get to the bottom of this, one way or another."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 - Conspiracy Theory**

Captain Archer caught the shuttle to Brazil that evening. The Starfleet Language Institute was located in the middle of the Amazon jungle, a fact that at one time would have made it nearly inaccessible, but with 22nd century transportation technology, it was nearly as easy as traveling from San Francisco to New York. Archer had contacted Hoshi to let her know that he was on his way, but he hadn't told her why. By the time she met him at the shuttle station, she was burning with curiosity.

"Sir!" She waved to him from the terminal. Grabbing his small overnight bag, he strolled over to meet her in the debarkation area.

"Hoshi," he said as he hugged her. "It's good to see you!"

"You, too, sir." She returned his hug. "I've got a ground car waiting outside." She led the way out of the terminal, and they were soon on their way. "So, what's so important that you have to come to Brazil?" she finally asked.

"Let's just say that there's a possible conspiracy that we need to find out about," he answered.

"Conspiracy?" Hoshi glanced over at him before returning her attention to the road. "Well, you've got my attention."

"Good." He sighed. "T'Pol discovered some disturbing information and we need help finding confirmation." He paused, then continued, startling her with his next words. "Trip's alive."

"What!" She swerved a little, then straightened the car. "I think you'd better wait to tell me anything else until we arrive.

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Captain Archer had contacted Malcolm Reed before he left for Brazil. They had met at the 602 Club, ostensibly for a drink, but Archer told Reed about T'Pol's discovery and the falsification of Trip's death certificate.

"I'd like for you to get in touch with your 'friend,'" Archer told him. "I know that you want to stay as far away from his 'section' as you can, but he may have information that we can use."

Malcolm agreed. "You're right about staying as far away as possible from the 'section,' but if it means getting Trip back, I'm willing to try." Both men had parted, promising to get in touch if either of them got any new information.

Now, sitting in Hoshi's living room, he was relating the same story to her.

"So, T'Pol actually has a mental bond with Trip?" Hoshi was amazed. "I didn't think something like that could be possible between humans and Vulcans. There really aren't any documented telepathic humans."

"Well, apparently, Trip has some kind of innate empathic ability." Archer took a sip of his tea.

Hoshi nodded. "You know, it really makes sense. He had – has – the ability to relate to other people, make them feel comfortable. Plus, his being in love with T'Pol could have facilitated a mental bond between them." She directed Archer's attention to the reason for his visit. "So, why do you need me."

"Sonocorp's employee records are encrypted with a code that's so complicated that even T'Pol can't break it." He smiled at her, his most charming smile. "I figured that a talented linguist who could learn the Xindi-Insectoid language and break a Xindi-Aquatic encryption code could handle this little problem."

Hoshi rolled her eyes at the flattery. "This "little problem" as you call it is highly illegal, sir," she said seriously. "Employee records are confidential."

"Well, if what we suspect is true, Sonocorp is up to its figurative eyeballs in illegal doings," he countered. "Kidnapping and falsifying official documents for starters." Archer leaned forward. "Trip's alive out there, suffering from amnesia and God knows what else. We've got to use every resource we have to find him."

"Isn't there any way Starfleet could help?" she asked.

Remembering T'Pol's reluctance to talk with him in his office, he shook his head. "Quite frankly, given that Sonocorp has a huge contract with Starfleet in producing components for the Warp 7 engines, I don't know how high up this conspiracy goes. If Admiral Forrest were still alive, I'd go to him but that's not an option. There would have to be some top-level Starfleet personnel involved, especially since the supposed Starfleet 'doctor' that pronounced Trip dead falsified his death certificate by signing Phlox's name to it. No," he reiterated emphatically, "we can't risk going to Starfleet, at least not until we have some kind of evidence, which you can help us find."

Hoshi thought about it for a few minutes. If what the Captain believed was true, then Sonocorp's activities weren't just illegal, they were criminal and cruel. Trip's friends and parents all believed him to be dead. She remembered how frail his parents were at the memorial service and came to a decision.

"I'll do it Captain." She rose from her seat and headed to her computer. He followed her.

"You're going to do it from here? Can't that be traced back to you?"

Hoshi smiled demurely. "Captain, do you know what a hacker is?"

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In the meantime, T'Pol and Phlox were quite busy tracing "Dr. Rayburn."

"Well, Commander, it seems that 'Dr. Rayburn' was not sent by Starfleet all." Phlox imparted this information to T'Pol over dinner at Madame Chang's Chinese restaurant. "There is no record of a 'Dr. Rayburn' in either past or present personnel files, although the person who relieved me of duty on the Enterprise sickbay had the proper identification and clearance passes."

"It seems obvious that there was collusion within Starfleet at some level," T'Pol observed. "Most likely, at a very high level."

"My question is, why? Why would someone kidnap Commander Tucker, falsify his death, and induce amnesia?" Phlox questioned, rhetorically.

"You are sure his amnesia was induced?" T'Pol asked. "Couldn't it have been a by-product of his injuries?"

"That's highly unlikely," he answered. "Commander Tucker had no head injuries. He was lucid when he was placed in the hyperbaric chamber." He shook his head. "No, no, his amnesia was induced. And, I would guess that his sudden appearances in your meditations mean that his subconscious is trying to override the re-programming of his memories."

T'Pol felt fear constrict her breathing, then she immediately controlled it. "If Trip regains his memory and they discover it, he could be in grave danger."

"Yes, Commander, he could," Phlox nodded in agreement. "Let us hope that we can retrieve him _before_ that happens."

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"Captain, I've got it!" Hoshi called out.

"You've found Thomas Clark's name?" Archer rushed to her side.

"No, sir, but I have broken the encryption." She started searching through the database. "There it is."

On screen was the employment information for "Thomas Clark."

"Born . . . same year as Trip, but different birthdate. Employment date . . . two years ago?" Archer frowned. "Obviously they're trying to cover their tracks just in case anyone manages to break their code." He looked again at the computer screen. "Current employment assignment . . . Arcadia Station." Archer thought back and remembered something. "Arcadia Station is where a lot of the Warp 7 engine components are being manufactured. Practically the whole engine is being built there then reconstructed at the building platform. It's rumored they're already working on a Warp 10 engine." He paced a little, then slapped his hand on his thigh. "That's it!" Archer wheeled around. "Trip told me a few months before he supposedly 'died' that Sonocorp had approached him to work for them. They offered him huge monetary remuneration if he would leave Starfleet. He turned them down. So, when he was injured they took advantage of that and had him declared dead and just took him."

"Why would they do that?" she asked.

"Greed," he replied simply. "I don't know how they managed to get such a big Starfleet contract, but I'm willing to bet that they used undue influence over someone in Starfleet command to do it. Trip's innovations redesigned the Warp 5 engine and a lot of his ideas went into the Warp 7 engine. Sonocorp got greedy and wanted his expertise all to themselves in designing and building the Warp 10 engine."

"So, what do we do now?"

"I'm going back to San Francisco and see what Malcolm has dug up. Then, we'll come up with a plan to rescue Trip, whether he remembers us or not," Archer walked to the window and stared out at the Amazon jungle just beyond the campus. "If Trip starts remembering his old life, he's in danger. We have to get him out before that happens."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4** **Arcadia Station**

Tom Clark walked out of the workshop where the first prototype of the Warp 10 starship engine was being designed. It had been a long hard day, not made any easier by the fact that he was having trouble sleeping at night. Oh, he didn't have any trouble getting to sleep; it was staying asleep that was the hard part. The dreams he kept having about the Vulcan woman kept waking him up. At first they hadn't been too bad, but when she started talking to him and telling him he was somebody else it became disturbing. He thought about seeing the company shrink, but this was a really good gig and he didn't want to blow it by making his employers think he was crazy. So, he just kept it to himself.

When he'd first arrived on Arcadia Station three months before, he'd been recovering from a serious injury sustained in his previous work assignment on Alpha Centauri. He'd worked there since graduating from the Cochrane School of Engineering located there. Because of his injuries, his life before coming to Arcadia Station was a little foggy. He remembered the major things, graduating from school, his parents' deaths in an accident, and he remembered all of his engineering skills. The fine points of his personal life were hazy though. All of the doctors had told him not to worry about it, so he wasn't going to. At least, he wasn't until the weird dreams had started.

"Hey, Tom!" Gary Weston, Tom's co-worker, was from Kester IV, the location of an Earth colony. Arcadia Station was located on Kester IV's moon, also called Arcadia. Gary had arrived on Arcadia Station just a week after Tom and they had bonded over being the new guys. He trotted up beside Tom. "Want to grab a bite?"

"Sure." The two men headed over to the cafeteria, which Tom, for some reason, kept referring to as the "mess."

Wearily, Tom chose his dinner from the selection available and sat down near a window that looked out over the moonscape. The edge of Kester IV was starting to show over the horizon, and it was a very pretty sight. He closed his eyes briefly, but when he opened them again, he wasn't looking out at the rising Kester IV. Instead he was in the weird white room again.

"Trip." He whirled around at the sound of the Vulcan woman's voice.

"It's Tom," he said warily, watching her closely. "My name is Tom."

"Very well, then. I will call you Tom." She walked toward him, reaching up to touch his cheek. He felt a little jolt as she touched him.

"What was that?" he asked, perturbed at the feeling.

"Our bond," she replied.

"Oh, yeah, the bond you keep saying we have." He drew in a deep breath. "Lady, I don't even know who you are. I don't know if you're even a real person . . ."

"I'm very real, Tr-Tom," she said.

Suddenly, he was back in the cafeteria, looking out the window at the rising Kester IV. "Tom, you all right?" Gary asked. "Why don't you go back to your quarters and get some sleep after dinner?"

"Sounds like a really good idea, Gary," Tom answered, but privately he wondered if it was such a good idea at all.

Back in his quarters, Tom laid down on his bed. All this stuff that was happening to him was just too weird. He wanted a nice, quiet, peaceful life working on warp engines, that's all. He slowly drifted off to sleep.

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The spray of the shower was warm on his body. He stretched, easing the stiffness in his muscles, then he felt a female body pressed against his back. Arms went around him and small feminine hands caressed his chest and stomach. Turning in her arms, he looked down into her eyes, noting the delicate upward sweep of her brows. Reaching up, she pulled his mouth down to hers, her kiss hungry and carnal. His own arms tightened around her and he backed her up against the wall. His lips left hers to trail down her neck, kissing and nibbling her soft, wet skin. He felt her own lips against his forehead, then heard her whisper:

"Trip."

His eyes opened in the darkness of his room and there was one word on his lips:

"T'Pol."

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T'Pol sat at the table in Captain Archer's dining room, Phlox on her left and Malcolm Reed on her right. Captain Archer was doing his customary pacing. They were discussing the information that had been found.

"Sir, my contact insists that his 'section' had nothing to do with Trip's disappearance, and I'm inclined to believe him," Reed told them. "He did, however, have information about Sonocorp's contract with Starfleet."

"And . . ." Archer prompted, pausing in his pacing..

"It seems that Admiral Gardner was the most vocal supporter of Sonocorp's contract to build the Warp 7 engine in conjunction with Starfleet." Malcolm looked apologetic. Gardner, along with Admiral Forrest had been a friend of Archer's father, Henry. "I'm sorry Captain."

"It's all right, Malcolm," Archer assured him. "You're just the messenger." He sighed. "What did you two find out about the mysterious 'Dr. Rayburn'?" He enquired of Phlox and T'Pol.

Phlox answered, "There is no Dr. Rayburn in Starfleet. However, from the data base information supplied by Ensign Sato, the woman who claimed to be Dr. Rayburn is actually an employee of Sonocorp." Phlox looked disgusted. "An actual doctor," he all but spit out.

"So, let's go back over what we have so far." Archer started ticking off the information they had acquired. "First, we know that Tom Clark _is_ Trip; second, he's suffering from induced amnesia; third, the doctor who falsified his death certificate works for Sonocorp; and fourth, Trip's last known location was on Arcadia Station."

"We need to add one more fact to that list, Captain," T'Pol informed him. "Commander Tucker is beginning to remember his past life. If he regains his memory, he could be in grave danger from those who planned this elaborate scheme."

"Then we don't have a lot of time. I have a plan, but we're going to need help getting onto Arcadia Station," Archer stated.

"I believe I know someone who may be able to aid us, Captain," T'Pol said.

"Soval?" he asked.

T'Pol inclined her head. "Yes, Captain. Ambassador Soval is on the Federation Appropriations Committee which must approve any contracts. This also includes inspections of facilities."

Archer looked somewhat skeptical. "Would he be willing to help us?"

"Ambassador Soval has expressed great admiration for Commander Tucker," she replied. "I am confident that he would be willing to help us rescue him."

"Then speak to him ASAP, T'Pol. We don't have any time to lose."

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	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 – Subterfuge**

"Ambassador Soval, we have arrived at Arcadia," Captain Sopek informed him via the intercom.

"Acknowledged," Soval responded. When T'Pol had approached Soval about helping to find Commander Tucker, Soval had not hesitated to do so. He admired Commander Tucker greatly. It was Commander Tucker's skills that had prevented an all out war between Vulcan and Andoria six years previously. Although Tucker was an extremely emotional man, when the situation required it, he could be as logical as a Vulcan. When the Federation Appropriations Committee had voted on giving Sonocorp a long-term contract to research and develop applications for a warp 10 engine, Soval was the only committee member who had voted no. This gave him a perfect reason to go on an inspection tour of their research facilities. T'Pol was accompanying him as his attaché, "T'Lia." Phlox had also accompanied them, remaining on board the _T'Shin _while he and T'Pol located Commander Tucker. Their plan was to "mark" the commander with a chemical signature. Then the Vulcan transporter would pick up his signal from among all of the humans on the station and transport him onto the Vulcan ship.

"You know that we may not encounter the commander," Soval stated to T'Pol and Phlox.

T'Pol inclined her head. "That is quite possible, but there are no other options in locating him."

"Also, remember that he won't know who you are, Ambassador," Phlox reminded Soval. "There is a possibility that he will recognize you, Commander."

T'Pol responded, "That is a risk I will have to take."

"Very well." Soval led the way to the shuttlecraft that was to ferry them down to Arcadia Station.

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"Welcome, Ambassador Soval," Bennett Sommersby greeted them as they disembarked from the shuttlecraft onto the station, bowing slightly. "We are honored to have you here."

"Yes." Soval raised one eyebrow. "This is my attaché, T'Lia," he stated. "May we proceed with the tour?"

"Um, yes, yes, right this way, Ambassador." Sommersby was flustered by Soval's abruptness. When the Tellarites and Andorians had toured the station, they had been flattered by his attention and obsequiousness. Obviously, Vulcans didn't succumb to flattery.

As they wended their way through the facility, Sommersby took them through the construction area, showing them where the prototypes of all sorts of warp engines were being constructed. In fact, he took them everywhere in the facility except the research and design department.

"Mr. Sommersby, I wish to see your research and design department where the work on the Warp 10 project is taking place," Soval interrupted Sommersby as he was about to explain to them how they lifted a completed prototype out of the workshop.

"Well, Ambassador Soval, that area is extremely restricted. The work going on there is highly classified-" Sommersby tried to put Soval off. Soval wasn't having any of it.

"Mr. Sommersby, I remind you that I am on the Federation council, as well as being a ranking member of the Federation Appropriations Committee, the committee which approved your work." Soval appraised him coldly. "Are you hiding something which the committee should know about?"

"No, Ambassador, there's nothing to hide." Sommersby was clearly having an inner struggle. Prudence won out. "If you'll follow me, I'll be happy to show you our R and D department."

"Thank you." Soval inclined his head graciously, but as they followed Sommersby, he looked at T'Pol with a raised brow.

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"Ambassador Soval, I would like for you to meet Mr. Clark and Mr. Weston," Sommersby introduced the engineers working on the Warp 10 project. "Gentlemen, this is Vulcan Ambassador Soval and his attaché." Sommersby indicated the Vulcan woman standing slightly behind the ambassador.

Soval looked to Weston. "Mr. Weston, I would appreciate it if you would show me the work you have done on the prototype." Weston led Soval over to the prototype, with Sommersby following close behind.

Clark looked at T'Pol curiously. "Do I know you? Have we met somewhere before?"

T'Pol raised one eyebrow. "I have never been on Arcadia before."

He frowned. "Alpha Centauri?"

"No," she answered, truthfully.

"You really look familiar."

"Perhaps you subscribe to the opinion that all Vulcans look alike," T'Pol told him as coldly as she could, considering her heart rate had accelerated. The emotion felt extremely uncomfortable. "I have heard that opinion expressed in the past."

His eyes narrowed. "I don't think that's it."

T'Pol moved closer to him. "May I see the schematics you have been working on?"

"Sure." He moved to the side so that she could see the computer screen.

She pointed to something on the screen. "Are these the plasma intake manifolds?"

"Yes," he answered, then proceeded to describe the difference between these and the ones on the warp 7 ships. As he did so, her hand briefly brushed against his. He snatched his hand away, feeling a tingle in both his hand and in the back of his neck. "Sorry."

T'Pol acted like nothing had happened. Looking over her shoulder she caught Ambassador Soval's eye, nodding slightly.

"Thank you for the tour, Mr. Sommersby. I believe that I shall have much to report to the Federation Appropriations Committee." Soval inclined his head to Sommersby and Weston. "You have been most informative Mr. Weston."

"You're quite welcome, Ambassador. Please come back to see us again," Sommersby said politely, and Weston echoed him.

"T'Lia," Soval said. T'Pol bowed slightly to "Clark" and followed Soval to the shuttle bay. They both of them boarded the shuttle. As soon as they were out of the bay, T'Pol contacted the ship.

"Lock onto the chemical signature that I placed on Mr. Tucker," she instructed Captain Sopek. Sopek ordered it to be done. "Hold Mr. Tucker in the ship's medical facility until we arrive. Estimated time of arrival ten minutes."

"Acknowledged. Sopek out."


End file.
